At 7.19 am last Sunday morning I found myself on a bus heading in the direction of Haight Street. I am not sure quite how I got there. Let's just say that a kind Frenchman, who had my best patriotic interests at heart, cajoled me into early action. Before the little hand had even struck eight, (don't forget, this is a Sunday, people), I was standing, dazed, in a hot, crowded pub, surrounded by England supporters and nursing a bloody mary back to health. (Or was it vica versa?) Mad dogs and Englishmen can apparently be found at "Mad Dog in the Fog", San Francisco's most well-known soccer-centric, English-style pub at these crazy early hours, at least whilst England's World Cup chances are still alive. (And long may they live.)

I guess I went to Mad Dog, looking for a little piece of England. Hoping that it would help me remember some part of myself long since left on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. It's a really friendly pub with great staff. The female waitresses, who were delivering beer orders into the crowd, deftly balancing huge trays of bottles above their heads as they snaked their way through the jostling, exciteable footie fans, carried out their job with remarkable patience, sharp wit and humour.

The place was full of English people, But! Despite England's win, I left the pub with an empty feeling. I had watched the game amongst strangers. Simply being Enlgish wasn't enough to knit a feeling of special camraderie between me and the rest of the anonymous crowd. I mean, let's face it, the miserable buggers didn't even laugh at my t-shirt. What the hell kind of English people were they anyway?

So, unless anyone out there has a better idea of some drinking-hole with great spirit and atmosphere, I am going to watch the next England match from the comfort of my own home, lolling around on my sofa, drinking tea, eating marmite on toast and just being my regular little quirky English self. Once we've gotten the Portugese taken care of, I will head over to Cafe Bastille (it's gonna be packed folks, get there early, but don't take our table), to watch France trounce Brazil. If England get to meet France in the semi-finals, then there is certainly going to be some fun on this blog and maybe, even, a little bit of rivalry between myself and Fred. So even though we don't usually like to fight, please keep your fingers crossed for a France/England battle ahead...

that's a great t-shirt. I would have laughed. But I also think the mad dog int he fog is overrated and not really very english at all.

actually the most english pub I have found is the Pelican Inn near Muir beach but it is also a very chi-chi english pub - not a footie watching pub. Me I'm hoping to go over to my english friend's house (or maybe my dutch friend's house) and do something similar to you.

watched the england sweden game at an irish bar in downtown sf - it was a bit surreal and nobody would join in with the singing

I go see France play at the mad dog. There were quite a few official team jerseys with Zizou on the back yesterday. THREE-TO-ONE!!!!!! The mad dog is like toronado, you can bring in your rosamunde sausage. I think that's where your empty feeling is coming from: rosie is closed at 8am on Sundays.

My father, who is from Bethnal Green in London, and I, go to the Mayflower Pub in San Rafael. We always watch England's games there, as well as eat a very tasty full english. Actually, it's missing the tomatoes, but whatever, the beans and chips are great. During the World Cup, it has been packed full of England jerseys and flags draped over shoulders. Pop in for a pint, proper breakfast, and the destruction of Portugal. Cheers!

Hi Sam,Marmite on toast...you're cute. I love football and I love England after living in London for a year during college. My husband and I went to the only British pub we could find in Fort Lauderdale to watch the game, but it was so packed they had shut the doors before it even started. All in all, I had a much better time watching at home. This weekend, I'm going to make an English breakfast which for me just involves a grilled tomato, pour a guinness and enjoy it. An England/France match up would be fantastic. On my blog I'm also doing a "World Cup Dinners" game where I pick a match and cook a dish from the country of the winning team. It's been really fun and I'm hoping for the chance to do some banger n'mash or sheperd's pie. Have fun watching the games!Julie

Andrew - you are taking on the characteristics of the London media far too much in your new careers! And if you are going to believe in portugal then you should be having some of that quince drink they have there. plus grilled sardines.

Jess - I am sure it is going to be crazy quiet on the streets of london and crazy noisy inside the pubs!

Dagny - maybe it was too much to ask?

Owen - was that The Chieftan? I was considering going there - they are good during the rugby. That's where I saw England win the world cup.

Ced - you have a point about the sausages - they would have filled me with something, that's for sure!

Anon - I used to work in SR so I know the Mayflower well. Unfortunately it is too much of a journey since we have to back at Bastille in time for the French match. We have to cater to both sides of the famille, you see ;)

Kishko - a true brit can get away with beer OR tea or even beer AND tea.

Amanda - I am scared of the Kezar

Andrew - I will be force feeding you marmite with a spoon if you are not careful.

Julie - i like the english breakfast at home idea a lot. I am going to check out your world cup dinners. thanks for the tips.

Garrett - there is no time like the present to make amends for your prior sins

'Becks and Posh' is modern cockney for 'nosh'. Follow English-Girl-Abroad, Sam Breach, on her culinary travels, mainly in the San Francisco Bay Area, but also further afield, whilst she plays at being amateur restaurant critic, wine taster, food photographer, cocktail connoisseur, party planner, good food forager and practising home cook, with trusted French advisor, Fred, by her side.